tumbataure | 155th page

Alright yall enough doodling around. It's nightfall in Alderwood, so grab yourself a hotel room, you can either opt for the snazzy spacious 5 star in the high class end of town or one of the less financially debilitating rooms on the second floor of the inn/pub, but expect to hear a lot of hooker noises and drunken cowboys from downstairs. You get what you pay for.

You ought to grab yourself a bounty poster and decide on a plan of action so that you have direction for your adventures tomorrow, because the Sheriff seems like he's not gonna stand for you taking advantage of their kindness if you're not going to hold up your end of the bargain.

There are four main bounties posted in the courthouse, but they're scattered about the town on posters, too. There's Dewie Martin, the highest paying bounty, Earl Johnson, Janna Turner and Billy Turner. There are other, lesser bounties, but those seem to be the four the Sheriff's really pushing for.

[Mission: rest up, youre going bounty hunting tomorrow morning]

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[ and morrigan's standing in the other doorway. the one constantine took the door from. of course it's the door to the bathroom and it's technically not an entrance, but she climbed through the window when she smelled magic. ]

What are you up to?

[i hate you.]

[kind of wrapped up in the magic, but he really wasn't expecting anybody who wasn't like maybe castiel, and he definitely wasn't expecting anyone to come in through the window.

the extent of his startle is a blink followed by a grimace, because this is kind of an undignified introduction.]

Scrying aura.

[a brief break in the muttering.]

Yes, yes, 'tis obvious to anyone with eyes. For what purpose are you casting this spell?

[smiles at the bowl. whatever he's seeing in the bowl. in the direction of that thing anyway, if not in reaction to it. who did this finger belong to? ancient magus? hapless cowboy?]

Plenty around here without eyes, then.

[he's got about as much as he's going to of whatever aura came up. ahem. turns away from the bowl and looks at morrigan for a few beats.]

I want to know what Dean killed.

No wonder 'tis taking so long. What has he not killed?

Hmm. A better question. Rumpelstiltskin, apparently. Though he thinks differently.

[stands up, scrubs at a line of chalk with his toe, pours a little liquid from his flask into the bowl of water, which bubbles and smells awful in response.]

The old cripple?

That's the one.

[she's not asking too many questions. or rather she's not asking the questions he'd have expected one of their party to ask. which he appreciates.]

Probably better for everyone if he thinks he has, though.

[ boy she magic. ]

He has done nothing to us. Not since that incident. Why the sudden interest, I wonder?

[rubs at his jaw, where he swears he can still feel the bruise even though it's long gone by now.]

Concerned about history repeating itself.

So you took the inevitable repetition into your own hands? I see.

Now why would you say a thing like that, love?

[neutral tone. he actually wants to know why she thinks he would sacrifice friends to get home. he's pretty sure he knows why dean thinks as much—the thing with feathers perched on dean's soul. but morrigan? what has he done to make morrigan think he's as awful as, well, he is?]

I see no others working spells in secret.

With Dean and th— Cas around, can you really blame me? Even the others who don't know an incantation from a cantrip are suspicious after losing their friends.

[hasn't seen her working any spells in public since the forest fire, not that he can remember anyway. not that he blames her for that.]

This is a harmless one anyway. As you can see, having eyes.

After losing their friends to the man you speak of. Which would perhaps be a tragedy, were I to care for their loss.

They weren't your friends, then?

[unsurprised. sits down on the edge of the bed and looks up at her.]

I have no "friends".

Because you don't want any?

'Tis the sensible option.

[shrugs noncommittally. starts rooting around in his pockets because there's no such thing as a non-smoking room in the old west, but remembers how people don't like that and stops.]

Well that depends on what you want.

[ does it look like she gives a fuck about cigarettes. really. ]

Do you find these people so lovable?

[everyone else seems to find it objectionable, and he's trying not to be objectionable right now.]

For the most part, no.

[for the most part they're difficult to even like, and he's sure they feel the same about him.]

So you see, I chose wisely.

[ except bo, and perhaps the new one. they're tolerable. ]

[watches morrigan for a moment without speaking. she is really very...

cold.]

You certainly have.

[honestly. it is the wise choice.]

... Does my frankness bother you?

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